Mexico weekly ledger., 1887-01-27

Tho great pianis, lnsitod me 10 lunch
with him n Monday al his boarding
place on Beacon street lbs said he was
depressed, and wanted 10 make same-
body as miserable as he was himself.
lie preferred u friend for tins objoet,
and suggested that II | would ho that
friend he would apnreeluto my voluntary
submission 10 suffering as a proof of
sincere amlty. IL was always difficult
to tell when tat tn'ow was TESTING, for
his ann was invariably earnest.
However, | consented 10 lunch with
him. wheseupnn he took my arm, and.
as we walked. he urged INT sole,nnly to
avoid music as II topic for conversation.
unless | mad something startling 10 pro-
pose. such rs u now resolution OF chord
of the ninth or u plan for the simulta-
neous destruction of all the ptano-forte
manufacturers in the world. Tie grew
eloquent upon the subject of the fine
lunch no had offered and / had accept
cd. and in the course Of the converse
ton enlarged upon the epicurean de-
lights that Munich presented to the boa
rset4t. ending with an Invitation 10 me
10 visit that art capital with him in
order 10 eat Il black radish and to try
the beer at tho liolbrauerei.
The banquet consisted of minced fish,
baked beans. and brown bread OF the
day before. and other fare in kind. wcll
prepared and well served enough. but
food for which | have no especial fond
ness. | therefore ate sparingly. which
Won Bulow observing. said: but you
don't eat, my dear fellow, You are of
Boston. The beans arc of Boston; the
brown bread is of Boston. Feast!'' 1t
was impossible to avoid laughing at his
grave so!icitude for my comfort and at
the in which no enjoyed his
curious joke, for joke ii was. Presently
n new idea seemed to strike him. for he
summoned a waiter, and after an en-
couraging glance 1T me. ordered that
worthy 10 bring 10 tho table the bottle
bearing the name Won Bulow on a label
about its neck. The wine was brought
and my glass was filed with claret. ]
waited for Won Bulow to fill his own;
but he said he could not drink, as it
affected his head at once. | put the
wine to my lips. 1t was soul as YER
juice and as bitter as gall. L replaced
the glass on the table with as little de-
lay as possible. He had watched me
with great interest, and when he saw
the ~unfavorable effect his wine had
made, said Inquiringly: Don't you
like itr' Upon informing him with as
the claret was abominable, he shook his
head sadly. and observed: sit must be
SOL Now | am convinced. You are the
seventh guest ! have invited here VINO
has condemned that same bottle of
wine! The only apology | have is that
l have kept my word to you. promised
to make you miserable. | know l have
succeeded"
On another occasion Won Bulow con-
fessed to me that he wanted to make a
joke. This time all was open and
above board. He wished to do a SER
vice 10 his agent, one Wertheimer, and
he thought he could best do it by writing
and publishing L comic song. A comic
song by the classical Won Bulow would
be sure to have an immense sale, and
Wertheimer would reap a large profit
from it. Words We're wanted, and Won
Buiow asked me to write him a few
humorous slanzas, of which the burden
or catch-word was to be "a little more
ginger!' then, | believe, a popular
slang term. | wrote and delivered the
words, and Won Bulow told me to call
upon him the next day to hear the we'd
ding of my words to music by him. l
went, and after the composer had told
me his success in finding a tune he sat
at the piano and played It Never did
l hear a more cramped, u~nmelodious,
and unsingable melody, and the piano
forte accompaniment bristled with diff
e%ultles, requiring a skill no less than his
own to play. l was amazed-speech-
less! Well" he said, turning on the
piano-stool, what do you think of it,
poet?" 1 told him with the most perfect
frankness hat the voice part of his
musical joke was unsingable, and the
piano part unplayable. MY dear fell
low" he said, with something of pity in
his tones, that is the j~oke."-Boston
Suf71dy7y E'l,oti171 G1zo}To